


Some things are best kept secret

by mickeymouseno1



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angry Mickey, Cats, Cute Mickey, First Kiss, First Meetings, M/M, cute ian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-07
Updated: 2015-12-07
Packaged: 2018-05-05 10:28:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5371982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mickeymouseno1/pseuds/mickeymouseno1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’m not sure you’re hearing me correctly, Mickey. I meant a cat. A pet.”</p><p>“Yeah, whatever. That.”</p><p>“Are you telling me that you were making cat noises at 10pm in your neighbour’s room?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some things are best kept secret

**Author's Note:**

> The fic isn't pasting properly into the text box... but it should be okay.
> 
> Working from two prompts this time!
> 
> Your RA almost caught your illegal cat but I convinced them that it was just me meowing
> 
> Okay, I don’t want to be that jerk but our building has a strict No Pet Policy and your cat will not stop meowing and I WILL report you and oh no you’re cute

_Meow_.

Mickey scowls and rummages through his drawer for some earplugs. It’s the fourth time this week he’s had to resort to this just so he can get through the shitload of homework the professor had heaped on them. Why the fuck he needed to memorise the Simpson’s rule and apply it to calculate the clearance of acetaminophen when he could just search it out was beyond him, but right now, Mickey’s anger was directed at something else.

In particular, a fucking cat. That wouldn’t stop meowing. And was in the room right next to his. In a college dorm where no pets were allowed.

Meow.

Mickey nearly roars with rage. He needs to get through this or he’s not going to pass his exam tomorrow. Which could cost him his scholarship here. Which would send him packing back to Canaryville where his old man would forever taunt him on the failure he is.

And there’s no way that’s happening before hell freezes over, so Mickey’s just about ready to go stab whichever fucker decided to bring a cat into their room. He storms out, stomps over to the door next to his, and takes out his pin. Whatever. He’s had experience picking locks. The owner’s probably not back yet. What they don’t know what hurt them. Until he hears a muffled curse that sounds decidedly more human than feline. Fuck.

“No! Tabby, shush. You’re gonna get me in trouble!”

Meow.

“Shush, Tabby!”

Screech!

Mickey’s had it. He roars and pounds on the door (and swears under his breath at the pain in his fist. It’s been too long).

“Fuck.” The person inside is silent for a moment, as if hoping Mickey’ll go away. Mickey pounds on the door again with more aggression. The person inside sighs. “See, Tabby? I told you to be quiet.” There’s some shuffling and the door finally opens after a minute.

Mickey musters up his best glare to shoot as the door opens to reveal the stupid cat owner… and nearly ends up staring with his jaw dropped like some teenage fangirl.

Fuck. The kid’s cute.

Luckily, years of being well acquainted with the closet in the Southside has prepared him for these situations, so instead, Mickey shoves past the redhead and hones in on the bundle of fur on the guy’s bed.

The guy swears and moves to block the doorway when Mickey picks up the screaming cat, carefully avoiding its claws.

“Come on, dude, what are you doing?” he asks.

Mickey bristles. “Ever heard of the no pets policy around here, ginger? You need an update on the English language, or I gotta beat it into you?”

The guy, for what it’s worth, looks away in embarrassment. Mickey takes the chance to race past him, but fuck it, the kid’s fast and already blocking his exit again.

“C’mon dude, let’s talk about this,” he looks straight at Mickey and the puppy dog eyes are too much. Mickey curses internally and steps back.

“Well, what the fuck is a cat doing here?”

The redhead sputters, “It’s just a _cat_ , Jesus. Calm down.”

Mickey scowls. “Well, it’s fucking annoying me. I can’t get anything done with it yapping its head off.”

Red puts his hands up. “Look, I found it a few days ago and I didn’t want to take it to the pound, okay?”

“What the fuck ever, bitch, I need to get my work done.”

“I promise, Tabby will be gone in a few days. My sister, Debbie, she’s coming to pick it up in a few days… _please_.” He’s looking so earnestly at Mickey and Mickey’s not sure whether he wants to punch Red or kiss him. Maybe even both.

Mickey shakes his head. “Well, I don’t have a few days, Red. I need that cat gone fucking yesterday.”

Meow.

“Shut the _fuck_ up, stupid pussy!”

Meow.

The redhead has the audacity to fucking chuckle. Mickey snarls in response and the kid backs up a little.

“C’mon man, pass Tabby to me. I’ll calm her down.”

Mickey hands the cat over before he can change his mind. It’s not because he’d given into the cute guy’s sincere expression. No. He just didn’t want to risk the cat killing him with those sharp claws.

Meow.

This time, it’s a contented purr as the guy rubs at its ears. Mickey takes in the sight, watches how soft the redhead is with the cat and feels a pang of _something_ in his chest. He shakes it off.

“Whatever, I don’t have time for this.”

He storms out of the guy’s room, ignoring Red’s noise of protest, but freezes when he sees the RA walking over. Mickey turns back and sees Red’s eyes widen.

“Ian Gallagher and Mickey Milkovich!”

Mickey winces at the shrill voice and backs into the guy’s room. Ian’s his name, apparently, Mickey notes, feeling slightly discomfited that this is how he’s learning the guy’s name.

The RA stands in Ian’s doorway and pushes her glasses up.

“I’ve heard reports of arguing in this room. Not only that, a cat. What is going on here?”

Mickey scoffs, ready to point out the fur ball in Ian’s arms when he notices they’re empty. There’s a really slight shuffling underneath Ian’s bed though.

Gotcha.

“Please, it’s right over…”

Ian shoots him a look that can only be described as that of a kicked puppy. It’s simultaneously the most annoying and adorable look Mickey’s ever been faced with and it brings him to a complete stop. Ian looks like he’s ready to burst into tears and Mickey scowls.

“Mickey? You were saying?”

Mickey gives Ian one last glance. Ian’s pleading silently, his eyes conveying fear and desperation and his lips forming an adorable pout.

“Umm… I heard Sanchez brought one home the other day.” Whatever, that guy spilled a shitload of buffer over Mickey’s cell extract the other day. Fucker deserves some payback.

The RA shakes her head. “I heard a cat meowing here myself, Mickey. Care to explain _that_?”

“No, no. You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. That… that was all me.” Wait, what the _fuck_?

The looks of bewilderment the RA and Ian are giving him reflect exactly what he’s feeling right now.

The RA shakes her head again. “I’m sorry. What was you?”

Mickey takes a deep breath. Here goes his sanity. “The fucking cat noises okay?”

“I’m not sure you’re hearing me correctly, Mickey. I meant a cat. A pet.”

“Yeah, whatever. That.”

“Are you telling me that you were making cat noises at 10pm in your neighbour’s room?”

Mickey groans.

“It turns fucking firecrotch over there on, okay?!”

Shit. What the ever-living fuck did he just say?

The RA recoils. “Umm… well… okay I’ll leave you two boys… to it. Okay.” With that, she practically bolts outside.

Mickey snorts to himself and is ready to leave himself when he comes face to face with a smirking freckled redhead.

“Shut the fuck up,” Mickey spits.

The guy grabs at Mickey’s arm. “Thank you.”

Mickey waves it off, but the guy, Ian, doesn’t let go.

“No really, why’d you help me?”

Mickey blushes. “Whatever, man.”

“Mickey, tell me.”

Mickey scowls, feeling his cheeks heat up even more. “You just… I don’t know, looked so sad.” He gesticulates wildly, unsure where to put his hands. “It reminded me of well me. Back when all I had was a cat. Then my old man got rid of it.” Mickey scowls again and turns to leave.

He’s stopped by Ian though, who cups Mickey’s face in his hands. _Large_ and _very warm_ , Mickey notes absentmindedly, before Ian leans in.

Mickey jerks in surprise when slightly chapped lips meet his own, but after a second, moans softly and opens to let Ian in. Ian does with great enthusiasm, his tongue pushing in vigorously and swiping along Mickey’s own. Mickey reaches up to pull Ian closer to him, and breathing in Ian’s scent. Ian moans softly at the contact.

After what feels like nowhere near long enough, Ian’s lips are off his.

“Fuck. I’m sorry,” Ian mumbles. “I just… noone’s ever done something like that for me before and I just – Mmph!”

Mickey’s rolling his eyes as he pulls Ian in and shuts him up.

When they break apart after what still doesn’t feel like long enough, they’re both panting. Ian’s lip is puffy and Mickey’s sure he got the same blissed-out look on his face.

He sighs. “Keep the cat. I ain’t no snitch.”

The cosmic smile he gets in return is worth the pass he manages to scrape into with his exam the next day.

(And little does he know how much more shit he’ll be doing just to keep seeing that smile again each and every day from then on.)


End file.
